


The Daughter of The British Government

by ImSimpatico



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, My First AO3 Post, My First Work in This Fandom, Sherlock Holmes Has a Heart, This is a prompt I found and I loved it, mycroft has a daughter, the Iceman isn't so icy after all
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-28
Updated: 2017-03-28
Packaged: 2018-08-27 12:40:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8402119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImSimpatico/pseuds/ImSimpatico
Summary: Mycroft is promoted to a job even more rewarding than being the British Government when a tragedy befalls his old flame...
He has to be a full-time father.





	1. The Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!!
> 
> This is my first post to AO3 and my first work EVER in this fandom! Yay, exciting changes!
> 
> This is from a prompt I found on here by julietRichan and I totally loved it- the extract from the prompt will have a **** before and after it just so no one thinks I'm stealing it! 
> 
> Enjoy! 
> 
> Any feedback is welcomed,
> 
> Leena :)

* * *

 

It was nothing he ever expected. It was one night! How could he have bollocksed not only his own life, but Moira's life this much?

Mycroft stared at the business card for a long while, the cup of tea he had made before his surprise visitor came is sitting on the side table and has long past 'just gone cold'. It's not every day you have a woman demand nothing more than a future promise when she tells you you're going to be a father but then again if Mycroft knew anything, it was that nothing in his life ever went as expected.

The scene from an hour ago plays in his head on an endless repeat.

****

_"I'm not asking you to give up your career, Mycroft." Moira said in her soft voice. "I know some day you'll do amazing things."_

_Mycroft leaned back, "So what is it that you do want?"_

_Moira smiled, "I want you to promise that should anything happen to me, you'll make sure our child is safe and cared for."_

_Mycroft nodded, "Sounds reasonable."_

_Moira rolled her eyes, a smile on her face. "Would I offer anything less?"_

_Mycroft fought a smile, "No, you would not."_

_There was a brief pause before Moira said, "I'm going to America. I have an aunt there who has offered to help me while I raise the baby."_

_Mycroft nodded in understanding._

_Moira pulled out a white business card with a number and email address written on it. "If you think of any names, send them to me."_

_Mycroft blinked, stunned._

_Moira giggled, "Oh Mycroft, you didn't think I'd just leave you without any connection to your child? Do you think me so cruel? You're as much as their father as I am their mother."_

_****_

In that moment, Mycroft Holmes promised himself something. He was going to make sure that unborn baby knew that it had a home in England, it would have a father who loved them whether he was always around or not. That child would be loved. He would make bloody sure of it.

At 20 years old, Mycroft Holmes had his world turned upside down but he was going to make the best of it, for the baby in Moira's womb and for himself.


	2. The Life of Baby Holmes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Baby Holmes may not always see her father but he was always there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is more or less a prelude to the actual story but post-prologue. I wanted to give some insight to how Mycroft went about his fatherly duties.
> 
> ALSO  
> I read somewhere that at the beginning of the series Sherlock is supposed to be like 27 which would make Mycroft 34 but I'm going to adjust that to accommodate the daughter's age. At the start of the series Sherlock will be 29 and Mycroft will be 36.

* * *

  

As Mycroft Holmes walks out of a casual meeting over a cup of tea with the Prime Minister, his phone vibrates in his pocket. Of course, so as not to be rude, he ignores it as he says his good-bye to the Minister and walks outside of Number 10 Downing Street, into the sleek black Jaguar waiting for him. His assistant, Katherine, gives him a brief smile as she turns her head back to her phone, letting her blonde hair fall across her shoulder.

The young man pulls out his mobile to check the message, thinking it was probably just from his mum telling him to come by for dinner at the weekend. It wasn't.

[Moira Newman: It's a girl  _Click to view Attachment._ ]

There, staring up at him was a scan of a baby-  _his_ baby. His  _daughter_. He could have sworn he was holding his breath as his eyes poured over the only evidence he had that he was going to be a father. A father to a little girl whom wasn't even born yet but he  _knew_ was going to be beautiful. With a mother like Moira, there was no way she wouldn't be beautiful.

[Mycroft: Thank you.]

* * *

 

His daughter would be born in just over two months time and Moira couldn't find a name she liked. The nursery was in progress, Mycroft had sent money to help her purchase the furniture, and all essentials had been bought but still Baby Newman, for Mycroft was sure Moira would give their daughter her own surname because that is what would be the most practical, didn't have a name. 

The young Mister Holmes poured over book after book of baby names.

 _Persephone_ \- No one would know how to say it, she would probably resent her mother for it.

 _Margaret_ \- Too old.

 _Chloe_ \- Too common.

 _Heather_ \- Didn't Moira say she hated the name?

* * *

 

He was in New York when he received the call from Moira's aunt. His daughter was on her way, name or not, she would be arriving in the world shortly. Mycroft would deny it until the day he died but Katherine swears he paled ten shades and swayed on his feet the second he hung up the phone. His uncertainty, however, did not stop him from ordering an immediate plane from New York to a hospital in West Virginia.

He wasted no time when the helicopter he had taken from the airport landed on the roof of the hospital. Mycroft made his way down to Labor and Delivery and asked for Moira Newman without missing a beat. The head nurse seemed to be informed that she should probably expect him as she only nodded and told him to follow her to a delivery room.

"So, you finally decided to show up." Moira's aunt glared at him as he made his way to Moira's sweat-soaked side in strides.

"Mycroft." The woman grunted his name and he took her hand.

"I came as soon as I could," He glances up at Moira's aunt. "Despite what you may think Anne."

"You're here now and thats all that matters." Moira announces shooting a look that clearly says  _be nice_ at Anne.

* * *

 

 "She's beautiful." Moira whispers tiredly as she holds her newborn daughter.

"Yes." Mycroft whispers back.

He never would have thought being here, seeing his daughter, would change how much he wanted to be in her life. From the moment he looked at her he knew she would be the centre of his world, not his job despite it being necessary to give her the life she deserves. He has never cared for anything in his life like he cares for this little girl who doesn't even have a name.

"Theodora." Mycroft whispers and Moira shoots him a questioning side glance. "I read it in a baby book, it means 'gift of God'. You said you wanted her middle name to be after your aunt and it fits; Theodora Anne Newman."

"Theodora Anne _Holmes_ you mean." The tired woman shows him a small smirk and giggles her chiming giggle at his small smile.

"Thank you." Mycroft whispers once more as he stares at the little pink bundle in the arms of the woman sitting in the hospital bed. 

 _Theodora_. His beautiful daughter that he's thanking all that is mighty ended up looking much more like her mother than she looks like him. 

* * *

 

"Sir, you have a visitor." Katherine smiles at him as she opens Mycroft's office door.

A squeal reaches his ears as a flash of dark brown hair whips across the room. 

"Hello, Theodora." The man smiles a bright smile that is only guaranteed in the presence of this little girl as he picks her up and places her in his lap.

"I'm going to miss you, daddy! Mommy says you do important work that keeps lots and lots of people safe so I think its okay that I don't get to see you much. Only as long as you're saving lots of people, though. You are saving lots of people, right?" Her bright doe green eyes stand out against her pale skin as she questions her father in the distinct accent she's acquired from being surrounded by Americans.

"Of course. I'll miss you too." Mycroft clears his throat as he thinks that he probably won't be able to see his daughter until next year and by that time she'll be five years old and starting 'big school' and phone calls, no matter how frequent, just are not the same. "Are you and mummy headed to the airport then?"

"Yes! I get to use my new backpack that you got me with _Barbie_ on it!" The little girl has a grin that melts even the Iceman's heart.

"Alright, Miss Theodora. Your chariot awaits outside." The blonde assistant gives a warm smile to the little brunette and a sad smile to her boss as she ushers Theodora off her father's lap and out of the door. "You care for her. No matter how much you deny that she means everything to you, it's plain on your face when you're with her."

"Caring is not an advantage, Miss Delacroix." Mycroft frowns at his PA before picking up some papers and holding them out to the blonde.

The blonde takes the papers and glides out of the room, just before she shuts the door she gives Mycroft one last pitying look. "Just because it's not an advantage doesn't mean you _don't_ care."

* * *

 

"Mom's getting married to _Frank_." The tween girl spits the name from her mouth like its a bad tasting sweet.

"I thought you liked Frank?" The gentleman frowns.

"Well, I do- its just... I don't know." The young girl struggles with her thoughts before sighing.

"Theodora." Mycroft Holmes pinches the bridge of his nose with right hand as he talks into the phone held in his left.

"Dad." He can hear the smirk in her voice as she playfully mocks him.

"You know your mum and I won't ever get back together." Mycroft tells the younger girl, glossing over the truth. She doesn't need to know they weren't ever really _together_ to begin with.

He hears that familiar sigh again. "I know, but I can dream."

"Yes, but you shouldn't let your dreams make you forget reality." 

"Can you... not, with your philosophical stuff?"

"Its not philosophical it's the truth."

"Yeah, whatever." He can hear the glimpse of a smile which makes him chuckle at the way his daughter is already taking on the tone of teenager. "Hey! Why didn't you sound surprised that mom and Frank are getting married?"

"Frank asked me if I was okay with it and your mother told me after he proposed." He says it with indifference, as though he expects his daughter to completely understand. Mycroft sometimes forgets that not everyone has the ability to _'just know'_ like he and his brother.

"Why would Frank ask you if _you_ were okay with it?" Theodora asks with incredulity in her tone.

"Because he's entering into a marriage with a woman who has a child with another man. He wasn't asking me if I was okay with him marrying your mum, he was asking if I was okay with you being in the position with a father living far away and another man assuming the 'position' as man of the household." Again, the tone of indifference.

"Oh, that makes sense." He doesn't need to see his daughter to know she's nodding.

"Not many people are that respectful of relationships like ours." Mycroft tells his daughter and he hears her sigh yet again, knowing that in her own way she's admitting defeat.

"All right, I have to go do my homework. Love you."

"I love you, too. I will call you on Saturday next week because I have business to do Sunday, I wouldn't be able to make the call."

"Mm hm. Bye, dad. Here's mom."

Mycroft listens to the shuffle on the other end of the phone before the voice he remembers all too well seeps through the receiver. 

"How did you do it?" Mycroft doesn't even need to ask what she means.

"I told her what she already knew." The man tells her with nonchalance.

"Okay, well thanks anyway. I guess we'll see you in a week then? She'll be chuffed with the surprise." Moira gets quieter at the end so Mycroft can only assume his daughter isn't far from the phone.

"See you then. Good bye, Moira."

"Bye, Mycroft." 

The British Government rubs his hands across his face with a sigh after he hangs up the phone.

It's going to be a long week, he can't wait to see his daughter. 

 


	3. Tragic Ends Make Way For New Beginnings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TWO THINGS HAVE CHANGED IN THIS CHAPTER.
> 
> The POV is now in first person.  
> I changed her name from Cordelia to Theodora!
> 
> Thanks... :)

It was the same as all the other times. He kissed my head and my mother's cheek while shaking Frank's hand, the driver of his car stayed patiently waiting as he said his farewells, and he walked to the car without a glance back at us. Only, that's where the similarities end. This time, I stopped him. This time, I suggested I drive him because I now have my license. This time, he took his suitcase out of the cab and paid the driver for the 'inconvenience'. This time, we _both_ left without looking back.

Maybe I should have stayed home; I could have stopped it or at least done _something_. Instead, I'm now sitting at the police station trying to pretend I hadn't seen what I had. I know he's on his way, I called him as soon as I saw the door was kicked in but he was at least an hour away when I called and that was 30 minutes ago. If there is one thing I'm sure about when it comes to my father though, it's that he is always there when it truly matters so if he said he'd be here as soon as possible then he will. He is a man of his word... if nothing else.

My head snaps up at the sound of the Police Station door opening with a swish. Sure enough, the man himself stalks through the door looking every bit as a official as he does when he comes in, and leaves, on his visits. My dad ignores the Sheriff and comes straight to me; I know he must look as though he is chastising me with the way he towers over my sitting form but his eyes say all he needs to. 

"I'm not hurt."

"Hang up on me like that again without an explanation and I will cut off your allowance."

I give my father a teary eyed chuckle as he gives me a quick smile before going over to the law enforcement officer. I can see the glances my father keeps giving me, indicating to me what the officer must be explaining; I didn't see the crime take place, I phoned the police immediately, I had to see my mother and step-father's blood splattered and smeared all over my own living room. I watch my father's eyes take a second longer to check me over at the last piece of information and I know he can now tell that I'm shaking, that I can't stop shaking.

"Theodora," Dad calls me over to him in a more gentle voice than I've ever heard him speak. "I think we should go and get you something to eat."

"Okay." I'm not really hungry, but I want to get out of this place.

The Sheriff gives me a pitying smile as my father puts his hand on my shoulder to lead me out. Once out the door, I see the sleek black Jaguar and slide into the passenger seat as my father slides into the driver's seat.

I take a second to look over my father, Mycroft Holmes. Normally, he rolls up in some nice Jaguar wearing a full three piece suit and a stoic manner. He always leaves the same way. The difference in my father is during his stay; he still has that stoic manner but he does make an effort to blend in with jeans and a nice suit jacket and button down shirt. Right now though, my father is not quite so stoic. I can see that he's holding the steering wheel just a little too tight so his knuckles are white, he makes an effort to keep a straight face but his eyes still show that he's furious and a little bit scared, and he's driving- I've never seen him drive before. I can tell that he's shaken at the news but wants to keep calm for me, I can tell that he is somehow blaming himself for this, and I can tell that he's trying to figure out what his next move should be.

"Why isn't there a driver?" I break the silence in car which makes my dad calmly turn his head to me with an eyebrow raised. "All my life, I've never seen you drive."

"It would have taken too long to get to you." He pretends like it's no big deal, but for a girl who's never had her father show up to any of her sports games or school activities, it means a lot that he would drop everything, plus break countless traffic laws, for me.

* * *

I push the croutons around the plate so that they sit evenly spread out over the pieces of lettuce. Stomaching any of this salad is not in the question. Dad didn't even attempt to order any food and instead sits staring at the coffee mug the waitress brought over. Neither of us have spoken since I asked about the driver but Dad's sigh indicates that the silence won't last long.

"I think it might be best, if you're okay with it, that you move in with me." The words that come out of his mouth are exactly what I was expecting, without the consideration for what I want though.

"I can't exactly stay here." It isn't an answer to a normal person but to Dad I know it's the response he was planning on.

"We'll stay in town for the next week so that your statement can be taken and the police can check you out." Dad finally looks up from his coffee with a solemn expression.

"Will they let me leave the country with an ongoing investigation?" As soon as the question slips out, my mind catches up to me.

Dad raises an eyebrow, "They'll have to."

He watches me push the food around my plate for another minute or two before calling the waitress back over for the bill. I watch as my father pulls forty dollars from his wallet and leaves it on the table despite it being way to much for what we ordered. I step out of the diner booth and walk out of the door behind my father.

"We'll stay in the hotel over there." Dad gestures to the building a little ways up the road just before he slips into the driver's seat and I slip into the passenger side.

I hum in agreement. It's going to be a long, hellish week.


End file.
